


My Guy

by thisisallbullshit



Series: Everything's Okay [9]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, cute boyfriends, possessive mickey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2017-10-16
Packaged: 2019-01-17 01:45:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12354861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisisallbullshit/pseuds/thisisallbullshit
Summary: Ian gets a job at the White Swallow and Mickey is not happy about it.





	1. Chapter 1

“You got a fucking job _where_?”

Ian had long since stopped fearing Mickey. Since that first time they slept together, probably. Objectively, he knew Mickey was a potentially dangerous person who could likely kill Ian if he wanted, but between all the gentle touches and soft kisses and sweet whispers, that danger hasn’t felt quite so imminent. However, that’s not to say that Mickey couldn’t be a scary motherfucker when he wanted to be, such as in this moment.

Ian grimaced, “It’s called the White Swallow.”

Mickey barked out a humorless laugh and Ian swallowed thickly. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” he growled.

“Mick, I can’t get any decent-paying job until I turn 18, you know this. I used to go to that club a lot during the last time you were in juvie, so they hired me even though I’m underage. It’s a good opportunity! Think of all the cash I’ll make in tips every night.”

“And what the fuck do you think they’re tipping you for?” Mickey grumbled, “Your sparkling personality?”

Ian frowned, “Okay, first of all: fuck you, I _do_ have a sparkling personality, and second: I’m just tending bar! Luke offered me a job as a dancer—”

“He _what?_ ”

“—and I said no! You really think they’ll give half a shit about the guy pouring their drinks when there’s practically-naked guys dancing on platforms for their viewing pleasure?”

Mickey rolled his eyes. “Do you own a fucking mirror, Gallagher?”

Ian felt a large grin creeping onto his face. “Awww.”

“Oh, fuck off, not the time.”

Ian’s grin didn’t fade. “Actually, I think it’s exactly the time,” he said as he pushed Mickey down onto the couch and straddled his lap. He bumped Mickey’s nose with his own, his voice softening, “C’monnnnn, we’ve finally got your house to ourselves, let’s not waste it,” he urged as he began placing soft kisses along Mickey’s jaw, but Mickey resolutely didn’t give into Ian’s advances.

“Don’t you try and distract me, asshole,” he grumbled as he half-heartedly shoved at Ian’s chest, Ian didn’t budge. “I’m still not happy about this.”

Ian rolled his eyes exasperatedly and leaned back. “I’m not asking you to be _happy_ about it, dumbass, I just want you to stop acting like a little bitch.” Mickey opened his mouth to retort when Ian cut him off by leaning back in and pressing their foreheads together. “You know you’re my guy, right?”

Mickey stared into Ian’s eyes for a long moment. Eventually, he nodded, Ian’s head, still pressed against Mickey’s, shaking with him. Ian smiled a soft smile before leaning in and kissing Mickey sweetly. After a moment, their kisses got a little more than sweet, which, inevitably, lead to couch sex, and that was the end of that conversation.

 

* * *

 

 

The next night found Mickey reluctantly walking with Ian through Boystown, the block amidst the club district that was specific to gay bars. Ian’s hand kept brushing Mickey’s, and Mickey knew that Ian wanted them to hold hands, but he just couldn’t. He knew that, theoretically, they should be safe from homophobes in the most homo area of the city, but he just couldn’t allow himself to be that open quite yet. Fag bashers coming to this area specifically to commit some hate crimes was far from unheard of, and Mickey may or may not be related to a few of those fag bashers, so no, he wasn’t able to be open quite yet. He knew Ian wouldn’t push him, though, and that was one of the things he loved most about his boyfriend.

Ian came to a stop outside one club with music blaring and multi-colored light flashing through the open entrance. “Alright, this is it.”

Mickey eyed the White Swallow and the line of pervy old men paired with annoying twinks with disdain. “You really sure about this?” he asked for the umpteenth time.

Ian rolled his eyes. “Yes, Mick, we could really use the money. If this makes you so uncomfortable, you could always come in with me. Make sure no one touches me or whatever, I’d sneak you free beers,” he propositioned invitingly.

As much as Mickey would love to personally beat the shit out anyone who dared to come onto his boyfriend, stake his claim in front of everyone there, the thought of actually going into a gay club left an icy feeling in his gut. So, instead, he did the next best thing.

“Whoa, Mick, what—” Ian sputtered as Mickey hauled him by his collar into the ally adjacent to the club. He shoved Ian up against the wall, and, before he could say anything, attached his mouth to the sensitive part of Ian’s neck. “Jesus, Mickey,” Ian groaned, half in exasperation and half in pleasure.

Mickey pulled away eventually, smirking at the deep purple mark he left behind. That’ll do. He took a step back, staring at Ian for one long moment, before he sighed. “Alright, Firecrotch, it’s almost 10, better get in there.”

Ian nodded, leaning in and kissing Mickey once before backing away towards the employee entrance. “Come by if you change your mind, alright?”

Mickey nodded dismissively as he watched Ian’s ass after he turned around and made his way inside. Well, shit. What’s he supposed to do now? 


	2. Chapter 2

Mickey checked his phone for probably the 100th time that night. 12:16. Ian wouldn’t get off work until 4.

Mickey didn’t know why this was driving him so crazy, he and Ian rarely got the opportunity so stay the night together, so it’s not like Mickey wasn’t used to sleeping alone, but it’s infinitely more comforting to know that Ian was safe in his own bed, as opposed to being surrounded by hundreds of men who probably all want on his dick. Fuck.

He was about to check the time again when his phone vibrated with a notification, and Mickey picked it up and read it with embarrassing speed.

** my break is at 1. If ur up ill call you, bet i could get u off over the phone **

Mickey smirked.

**bet u could. ill be up.**

Mickey felt a little better now knowing that Ian was thinking, as fucking embarrassing as that is. He drummed his fingers and tried to resist checking the time again. He only lasted for a couple minutes, and—12:20. Jesus Christ, that’s enough. He got up and hurriedly put his clothes on and made his way to the L before he could change his mind.

It was 10 ‘til one when Mickey got to the ally beside the White Swallow. He lit a cigarette and tried to will his hands to stop shaking. He had no reason to be nervous, he was hidden in this ally, all he wanted to do was kiss Ian in person, maybe get a quick handjob. He’ll be out of this neighborhood in half an hour, tops.

After what felt like forever, Ian walked out of the employee entrance, unlit cigarette already hanging from his mouth and retrieving his phone from his pocket, not even looking in Mickey’s direction. Mickey felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and grinned. Pulling it out, he spoke, “Hey, Firecrotch,” into the receiver. Ian’s head snapped up, and the grin he gave Mickey made him forget the he was standing outside a fucking gay club. They wasted no time in putting their phones away and rushing to meet each other halfway, their lips immediately connecting. Mickey hummed happily into Ian’s mouth.

After a long moment, Ian pulled away, leaning his forehead against Mickey’s, still smiling. “Hey,” he breathed, “You came.”

“Yeah, well, I much prefer your hand to my own,” Mickey said as he took a step back, stealing Ian’s cigarette and lighting it. “How it going in there?”

Ian shrugged. “Fine, I guess. Made over a hundred in tips so far.”

Mickey raised his brows. “Shit, really? You giving them a literal blowjob or just the shot?”

Ian rolled his eyes and snatched the cig out of Mickey’s mouth. “They can’t lay a hand on me, Mick. That’s what the bouncers are for.” There was a slightly awkward silence in which Mickey didn’t know what to say, but luckily Ian broke it. “You wouldn’t believe how many appletinis I’ve made so far tonight.”

Mickey snorted. “Fuckin’ seriously? Appletinis?”

Ian chuckled. “Yeah. One of the other bartenders, Isaac, he’s had to teach me all these fruity fuckin’ cocktails. What the fuck ever happened to just drinking beer?”

Mickey smiled. “So not a lot of, uh, manly men in there?”

“Fuck no.”

Mickey bit his lip nervously. “Your customers not really your type then?”

Ian stared at him for a moment, eyebrows raised incredulously, before he was suddenly up in Mickey’s space, shoving him against the wall. “You’re my type, Mickey,” he said seriously.

Mickey let out a shaky breath, coughing and turning away to regain some composure. “Fuckin’ gay, man.”

Ian didn’t respond, and instead leaned in and kissed Mickey deeply, taking his breath away. They made out for several minutes, and Ian’s hand was just making its way down Mickey’s pants when his phone went off and he pulled away. Ian pulled it out while Mickey struggled to catch his breath, frowning at Ian’s dismayed expression.

 “What is it?”

Ian sighed. “My break is just about over. I’ve gotta get back in there.”

Mickey nodded, kissing Ian once more before watching him go for the second time that night. Before he could stop himself, he called out, “Hey, wait! I’m coming with you.” Before he could even begin to regret his word vomit, Ian spun around, looking so fucking happy that Mickey might just throw up with all the fucking butterflies in his stomach.

“Yeah?” Ian asked tentatively, hopefully.

Mickey only nodded, motioning for Ian to lead the way. Ian’s grin didn’t fade when they walked into the employee locker room, where he deposited his jacket, leaving him in just a tank top – Mickey was in the middle of admiring his boyfriend’s arms when he bitterly remembered that that’s what every other fucking guy in this club had been doing all night – and it still didn’t fade when Ian showed him to the bar area he was working in, pulling out an extra stool for Mickey, a good few feet away from the nearest parton.

Mickey looked around, eyeing the perverted old men hitting on what were obviously underage twinks, the flashing lights, the guys dancing on platforms wearing only booty shorts and body glitter, and the men staring up at them, stuffing bills into their shorts. Mickey briefly imagined Ian as one of those dancers and shuddered. He’d have definitely stormed in here and killed someone by now.

He turned back to Ian as he set a beer down in front of Mickey, smiling at him again. He leaned down so Mickey could hear him over the deafening music and practically shouted, “Thanks for doing this. I’m really proud of you, ya know?”

Mickey was about to ruin the moment with telling Ian he was being too gay, or shrugging it off, but he didn’t want that. He was in a goddamn gay club. _Mickey fucking Milkovich_ was in a fucking gay club, making gooey-eyes at his _boyfriend_. He was riding an adrenaline high from this liberation, surprisingly not even feeling anxious about all the people who could see him. So, before he lost his nerve, he leaned up, pressing a lingering kiss on Ian’s lips, his hand coming up to stroke his cheek. When he pulled back, Ian looked astonished, which made sense, seeing as Mickey had never come anywhere close to a public display of affection such as that, which only spurred on Mickey to say, “Of course, you’re my guy.”

Ian was smiling so big, his eyes fucking shining, and he blurted out, “I love you, Mickey.”

Mickey didn’t even have it in him to panic, he was too busy hauling Ian close and kissing him hard and passionately. Several minutes passed before a bouncer finally came up to separate them, telling Ian to get back to work. They reluctantly parted, but Ian continued to give him sappy looks all night as he worked, coming back every now and then to replace Mickey’s beer and place kisses on his lips, smiling all the while. And Mickey couldn’t even find it in himself to get too angry at all the men checking Ian out, because he knew that was _his_ guy, _his_ Ian _._ His Ian who loved him.

And who he was pretty sure he loved back.

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT (5/7/2018): hey so i haven’t updated this series in quite a long time, and there’s a bunch of reasons for that, but i think i’m mainly just losing interest in this fandom ? i tried to pretend this wasn’t the case for a while but i haven’t watched the show or enjoyed many fanfics in a while. i may return to the show and start writing again eventually, but i’m not making any promises. [here's my twitter](https://twitter.com/mollie_hatchet) if you feel like hitting me up.


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